


The Softness of Night

by SerAnneliese



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M, New Year 2019, safe and happy holidays for all!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-09-26 23:02:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17150723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerAnneliese/pseuds/SerAnneliese
Summary: If there's one thing Ignis knows for certain, it's that his love for his Prince will never falter, no matter the consequence.





	The Softness of Night

**Author's Note:**

> created for daskerlizard as part of the the ignoctgiftexchange on Tumblr! a very happy New Year to all, and may it bring plenty of inspiration and revitalization.

“Hurry, Iggy, or we’ll miss it!”

It’s the tone of his voice that catches Ignis’ attention thoroughly. Noct is walking quickly ahead of him, thermos jutting from one pocket of his heavy coat. It’s bitterly cold tonight but his face looks warm, nose, ears, and cheeks burning bright red with excitement. There’s a gleam in his eyes that Ignis hasn’t seen for a while now. Something so precious and heart-wrenching that he has to remind himself to look away when they make eye contact. And his voice. There’s the excited, near childish lilt to it that he’s missed so dearly. Despite their short age gap, Noctis has always been Ignis’ beacon of softness, a gentle, young soul with raven-black hair, dancing on a moonbeam. It’s these small things which first endeared him to Ignis and what continue to make him love him so this night.

How he reaches for his hand and coaxes him along is second on his mind, nimble fingers floating along the fabric of his jacket and all too quickly brushing his palm. The touch, despite it being atop his glove, lingers on his skin and radiates with meaning. They used to touch and hold one another freely as boys and he finds himself profoundly missing it in this moment. It took him years to earn his charge’s trust but only what seemed like moments for him to close off again, his boyish charm sinking under the awkwardness of early manhood. He bites the bullet and makes his steps longer, catching up to Noct and sliding his hand into his. Noct looks down at them then to his face.

“What gives?” he asks. He’s not bothered by the notion so Ignis presses.

“Didn’t I tell you to wear gloves? Your fingers are going to freeze in this weather.”

Noct laughs dismissively.

“I left them on the counter at home.”

“Then I shall help as I can.”

“My knight.”

Noct says this with a small squeeze of gratitude and they both face forward once more. Their destination is still a ways away and Ignis finds himself grateful for the walk. Tonight, no one is out in this part of the city. It’s far too cold for any outside celebrations, and the event at the Citadel is long over. Noct lifts a finger to the sky and points out something.

“Look, you can already see them.”

“Let us not waste time, then, and hurry towards our destination.”

Noct begins half-running and Ignis matches him, their cloudy breath leaving their mouths and floating behind them. In the light of distant street lamps, Ignis can make out Noct’s determined expression. The pier is just ahead and Ignis cautions him to slow down on the steps.

“Here, let go,” Noct says and pulls his hand from Ignis’. He jogs up the stairs and Ignis stands there for a moment, his hand quickly becoming cold, before following suit. Noct’s leaning against the railing when he makes it to him. He undoes the latch of each glove and pulls them off, holding them in his left hand and lifting Noct’s with his right. He plants the bundle into his palm and Noct gives him a questioning look.

“Wear these, please,” he says and sniffs slightly. The cold in his lungs from the jog is making his nose run.

Noct inspects them and stretches one onto his right hand. Ignis realizes he’s staring so he casts his glance out towards the city, so large and small all at once.

“This park is far from the hustle and bustle of the city,” he begins, stuffing his hands into his jacket pocket. “And although the lack of streetlights makes it considerably more dangerous, it is rather nice to find an area for optimal star-viewing.”

Noct makes a noise that sounds annoyed so Ignis looks at him to see one glove hanging from his mouth and Noct using both hands to fasten the latch on his right hand. He tuts and pulls his hands into the cold, plucking the glove from between his lips and slipping it onto Noct’s outstretched fingers, fastening the latch with expertise.

“I dunno why that was so hard,” Noct comments, turning his hands to and fro to observe the sheen of the leather. Ignis tucks his frigid hands back into his pockets and Noct reaches for his thermos, unscrewing the cap and taking a drink.

“Looks like we’re early,” he says with a hint of disappointment.

“Perhaps running in the cold was an unnecessary maneuver.”

“It builds character.”

Noct offers the thermos and Ignis takes it, grateful for its warmth. He checks his watch then takes a small sip of the warm drink.

“We’ve about five minutes until they appear in full view.”

Noct groans and shifts his weight.

“The anticipation is killing me.”

Ignis turns to him, witty retort on his tongue, but catches sight of the scarf around Noctis’ head, loosened from the jog. He puts a hand on either of his shoulders and turns Noct to face him, hands unwinding the scarf from around his neck and straightening it. He pushes it against Noct’s throat lightly and switches the ends, draping them over his torso. Noct instinctively lifts his chin and lets Ignis finish the knot, pushing the ends of the scarf into the loop and straightening it like a tie against his adam’s apple. Noct pulls on it slightly.

“Too tight?” Ignis asks. Noct nods once.

“Not too bad, though. You used to choke me with this thing.”

“Were I aiming to do such a thing, you’d be far dead by now, Highness.”

“And just how light of a sentence do you think a royal murder carries here in Insomnia?”

“I could plea that you drove me to aggravation, and any judge would acquit me of my crimes.”

Noct breathes in through his teeth in mock pain.

“Ouch,” he says, driving the point home with a bump from his elbow into Ignis’ arm. Ignis takes him around the shoulders and they stand, side by side, waiting for the stars to fall.

“You know,” Noct says after a long moment, shifting underneath the weight of Ignis arm. “You’ve been touchy lately.”

“I can stop if you like.”

“It’s not that.”

A break. Ignis pushes up his glasses with his free hand, his arm suddenly as heavy as the world.

“If it makes you uncomfortable, please tell me and I’ll cease.”

“Are you doing it on purpose?”

Ignis looks down at him and Noct looks back, breath an icy cloud in front of him. He lifts his arm up and out from behind his shoulders.

“Perhaps some of it is, yes, but it is my duty to protect you, and thus coming in contact with you may be a subconscious action of mine.”

Noct doesn’t respond, just reaches forward and pushes away either side of Ignis’ unbuttoned coat. Beneath it, he’s wearing a black suit with a tie, and Noct adjusts the knot against his neck then tucks the rest below his vest, smoothing a hand down it to pull out any wrinkles. Ignis feels his breath hitch slightly when his knuckles brush his throat. To his chagrin, Noct notices. He sighs and drops his hands, eyes turning back to the sky.

“All this time and you can’t stop being afraid of me,” he says. Ignis purses his lips and adjusts his own tie.

“That’s not the issue at all, Noct. I--”

“Then what is it?”

Ignis had been looking away but now finds himself staring into Noct’s deep blue eyes. They’re furrowed with an anger he can’t quite place and his lips are drawn back in a frown.

“You’ve always said that we’re more than just a Prince and his Advisor, that we’re friends. But friends aren’t scared of each other.”

Ignis shakes his head, his own eyebrows creasing together.

“That’s certainly not the issue.”

“Then what is?!”

“Noct, calm down.”

Noct grunts in frustration and turns around, walking away a short distance. Ignis lets out a breath he had been holding. He watches Noct pace for a short time, and when he stops, he approaches him and hands him the thermos. Noct accepts it begrudgingly and takes a deep drink, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Is it because I’m the Prince?” Noct asks quietly. Ignis remains looking at him even though the eye contact isn’t returned.

“Certainly not. If that were the issue, I’d be drastically unqualified for my position.”

Noct doesn’t answer, just stares at the thermos. Ignis sighs and shifts his weight to one foot.

“My hesitation stems from the fact that you’re you, Noct. Once upon a time we were very close, and yet now I find myself struggling to understand you. Your moods are highly volatile and my words hardly seem to carry the same weight as I’m used to. Perhaps this is the reason why I try to reach you physically, because to me, your emotions are unavailable.”

Noct nods but he’s obviously still upset.

“Then why do you flinch why I try to touch you back?”

Ignis swallows, taken aback.

“I’m not used to the reciprocation, is all.”

Noct sighs, a heavy, loaded thing, and lets his eyes find his boots.

“That the truth?” he asks after a moment. Ignis takes the thermos from his hands and closes the cap, setting it on the ground beside them. He once again takes one of Noct’s shoulders in each hand and turns him to face him, pulling him to his chest. He wraps and arm around his back and uses the other to pet his hair, chin resting atop his head.

“It is, indeed.”

Noct is tense when he first hugs him, but when the warmth of their bodies mingle and Ignis makes no sign of breaking away, his shoulders fall and Ignis feels his hands come to rest on either of his lapels, one hand directly above his heart. He pushes his chin down and presses his face into Noct’s hair, breathing in once deeply. He moves further down and lets his grasp loosen slightly. He pushes the hairs away from Noct’s face and presses a long, tender kiss to the top of his forehead, pulling his lips away only to lay his cheek atop his head once more.

They stand there, on the pier of a quiet park, Ignis gently swaying the Prince in between his arms. He can feel his calm, warm breath through his clothes and the intermittent scrunching of his fingers. The action reminds him of a sleeping cat.

Noct shifts and his face nuzzles into Ignis’ chest before he makes the action to pull away. Reluctantly, Ignis lifts his head and loosens his grip to let him leave but instead Noct slides his hands under Ignis’ arms and holds his back. He looks shy, Ignis thinks.

“Sorry I snapped,” Noct apologizes quietly. Ignis smiles and lifts a set of fingers, pushing stray locks of hair from in front of his Prince’s face.

“Nothing to worry about. Of all those who may fear you, whether for your status or your thorns, I am not among them.”

He gently lifts Noct’s chin in his hand and they meet eyes once more.

“I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.”

Noct looks like he wants to speak, to say something in response, but his eyebrows draw upwards and he presses his face to Ignis’ chest once more. Ignis pats the back of his head fondly and chuckles. Noct must hear it from where he lays his head because he too lets out a small laugh. It grows and grows until they’re both laughing, Noct pushing his face into Ignis to hide his redness and Ignis laughing harder because of it. His offers small encouragements of “Come now, Highness,” and Noct shakes his head, pulling himself tighter when Ignis tries to pull him off. It’s only when Ignis stops laughing and pats Noct’s shoulder to signal to him that he does pull away. He lifts a finger and points to the sky above.

“It’s starting.”

Above the city, stars are streaking across the sky. First it’s only a few, then ten, then seemingly hundreds of dazzling lights twinkle and fly against the sky, showering the deep purple with white and yellow shooting stars. Noct takes in a breath and lets go of his grip on Iggy’s back, eyes captivated by the show. Ignis gently coaxes from him his arms and they slowly walk to the railing, hardly blinking against the bone-chilling cold. The stars intensify for what seems like an eternity, brightly illuminating the nighttime, then slowly fade in a decrescendo, trickling instead of pouring like a waterfall. It’s in this lull when Ignis feels a hand slide into his and he breaks contact from the sky. He looks down to see Noct’s hand, uncovered and soft, intertwined with his. He admires his princely profile, Noct slowly blinking away from the stars but letting them take home in his own eyes. Ignis lifts his free hand and presses it to the side of Noct’s cheek, thumb brushing along his cheekbone.

Even if the sky turned permanently black, Ignis knew, then and there, that the world would always have one night light burning to keep the darkness at bay.


End file.
